Blissful Ignorance
by Crowded Angels
Summary: [MSF] It was three weeks since the Frankie ordeal, but still everything was up in the air. And as hard as she tried, Stella still wasnt 100percent either...


I've had a scene haunting me all week, and it just wasnt fitting into _Semper, _so here you go lol

_Semper _will be updated soon, I promise ;)

Set after the awesomeness of 'All Access' again, because it was just too amazing _not _to multi-fic heehee Hope you like xx

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Officially she'd clocked off, but Stella still walked the halls. She made her way to her darkened office, thankful for the solitude and peace. She switched the desk lamp on, providing the only shaft of light in the room, other than the partially glassed walls. 

It had been one of _those_ days, in two weeks worth of _those _days. She could feel herself reaching near breaking point with a suspect, needing to be reigned in by Mac or Danny, and even sometimes Lindsey. It had barely been 3 weeks since Frankie had tried to kill her. As hard as she tried to move on, relocate all the memories to the furthest part of her psyche, it just wasn't working. She was seeing Frankie in shop doorways, on street corners, in her dreams/nightmares. Needless to say she hadn't been sleeping properly. And there was something hanging over her.

Illnesses weren't really all that uncommon in Stella's business. She was in–and-out of hospitals, rotten crime-scenes, the City morgue…so it was only natural that she'd contract _something. _Whatever this bug was, it was persistent to say the least. She was vomiting, lethargic and even more cranky. Of course, she hadn't mentioned the vomiting to Mac, he would no doubt send her home and she just couldn't stay there for such a long stay.

People were still casting her pitiful looks too, and it was driving her crazy. The gentle head-cocks, the sad smiles, the chatter behind her back... Why couldn't they just get over it? Everyone being at her beck-and-call wasn't helping, it was just making everything she was trying so hard to forget even more fresh in her memory.

Her immediate colleagues were good though. Danny, Hawkes, Flack, Lindsey…they'd all snapped back to how they were before the whole ordeal. Bantering with her; telling her where she could stick the extra paperwork…_that _was what she needed.

Mac was even better. She knew without a shadow of a doubt that he was there to catch her. He wasn't hounding her, asking if she was okay every two seconds, lightening her work load. But if she needed him too, he would.

This past week she had actually needed it. On one of those sleepless nights, where she would single-handedly right the wrongs of the world, something had come to her. She'd connected the dots, and the results where a viable possibility, as much as she absolutely dreaded to admit.

She'd kept the inner-conflict to herself, not uttering a word to anyone, not even to the psychiatrist she was forced to speak with. She hadn't even told Mac.

Yet, he knew. How in the hell did he know she feared she was pregnant?

The single beam of light on her desk fell perfectly onto the brown paper bag. The oblong box of a home pregnancy test inside. Her elbows fell to the desk as she dragged her fingers through her hair. Was this really happening?

The hospital had determined she hadn't been sexually assaulted, so there was no reason to give her a morning-after pill. Regardless of that, she hadn't been with Frankie for a few weeks, ever since she found that vile site of his.

But it was as if nature was sending big flashing neon signs. Signs that she was blissfully ignoring.

The tiredness; the mood swings; the vomiting...

Stress of the event still reeking havoc with her body, or… Frankie's child?

There was only one way to find out.

Xx

Slamming her locker shut, Stella was forcing herself to go home. She was _not _going to spend another night on that unforgiving office couch, or behind that desk doing paperwork she wasn't even sure needed to be done.

She wasn't surprised when there was still a light in Mac's office, not to mention the man himself. He spent even more time at work than she did, and that was just mind-boggling.

He looked up from his computer screen to see her stood in the hall. She didn't go up to talk to him, just stood facing him. His face asked her the question that his mind had been processing for hours.

As swing and nightshift passed by her unaware of the silent conversation, Stella heaved a sigh with a soft smile and shook her head just the slightest.

Mac exhaled the breath he hadn't realised he was holding and shot her a thankful smile. He switched off his desk lamp and grabbed his jacket from the hook.

He squeezed her arm affectionately when he reached her and walked with her out of the building into the cold New York night. He saved her thesubway ride home, driving through the crowded streets, stopping off at the favoured Chinese restaurant.

She just wanted to sleep. She actually felt like she _could _sleep. But Mac insisted that she needed to feed her malady. He also promised that he would deliver her food daily while she didn't move from her bed until she was actually fit and well to work.

Seeing the slightly fearful look in her dark-bagged eyes, he changed his statement, saying that he would deliver her food daily while she didn't move from _his_ _guest room_ until she was actually fit and well to work.

She tried to protest, but he told her it was final. He also said that he would look into finding her a new apartment. There was no point in shelling out money to a house that she was scared to be in. Moving was the only option. She didn't protest to that.

Stella was asleep before they reached his house. He begrudgingly woke her, leading her to the spare room and to an old tee-shirt and sweat pants, until he could get her her own clothes in the morning.

She thanked him for everything, and then some. He said it was what partners did.

_.fin._


End file.
